How the Mighty Have Fallen
by VanessaAlthea18
Summary: Righteous or corrupted men, down to their core it's all the same. Their great fall causes ripples in our lives that change us forever, for better or worse.


_AN: It's good to be back and writing once more! Read on, guys. Be warned though, this is very angsty._

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_"Hail holy Queen, Mother of mercy; hail our life, our sweetness, and our hope."_

Five years ago, Chris Redfield mourned after the death of a woman he'd known for more than twelve years, lost and sought after for two more.

Despite his unrelenting but fruitless searching, nothing came up to prove or disprove her official death claimed by the three-month investigation conducted by the BSAA European Division Forensics Field Team.

There was no body to bury.

No chance to survive the fall.

Not even a hair could be traced.

Now that she was found, Chris didn't know what to do, what to say, which was right, and which was real, anymore. For standing in front of him was a poor reflection of who he had been looking for, especially the hair and paleness of her complexion.

Her movements still as a dead stone and eyes more lifeless than a poorly crafted porcelain doll only showed the exterior. Even a blind man could see the insanity engulfing her whole being, feel the hollow shell. Nothing else could be done to negate it.

Nothing but else but watch everything within slowly crumble to nothing.

There were no resemblances between this woman and his well-known and longtime partner fueled and driven by the same passion, reason, and fire as him, of the soldier who jumped out save the world of from losing its hero, and of the woman he'd sworn to marry and love for an eternity.

This masked cloaked assassin was nothing more than a shadow in possession of the vessel that used to house Jill Valentine's soul.

And dying.

Either it was from the gunshot she received from her captor, a puncture wound to some vital organ, the torture and tremendous training her body underwent, or the pain of waiting and losing the non-existent hope that somehow her fiancé could still save the leftovers of her soul that has long left this world.

Chris couldn't find the courage to move away or step closer. Too afraid of losing the only existing reminder that Jill Valentine survived a deadly plunge. Too afraid of hurting her for doing nothing and something.

And too afraid to lose her once more, like the vague memories slowly fading away.

This woman at least left him consoling words. Jill Valentine's soul was already fetched by the angels of death the moment she crashed through the window and fell into the abysmal maw of the plunge that her life instead of the world.

Instead of his. And this sacrifice saved him.

Physically. Temporarily.

As the fading light in her eyes glimmered, Chris saw the same camaraderie he and Jill formed in S.T.A.R.S., the strength they gave each other in hopeless times, and the trust and love they've built for half of their lives. Her blue orbs glowed their brightest, just like the day they first met, the times when they bicker, the eve of their first kiss, and the promise he'd given to her eleven year prior.

The glowed as if her wings were removed and were now finally being restored after two long years of captivity and torturous waiting.

Chris heard her silent words "_I love you", "I'm sorry", "I miss you", _and_ "please don't tell me you've been drinking and smoking your way to death while I was gone"_ from her eyes and pass through the between them. His heart and eyes felt reciprocating the same words, only replacing the last with _"since when have been a blonde?"_

Realization then dawned upon him that he was finally done with fruitless searches, aimless wanderings, and sleepless nights filled with nightmares of her knocking on his door for revenge as the fact itself made obvious that this poor reflection of his lovely Valentine was who he had been looking for all these years. But as fast as it came was the speed of how the light in her eyes disappeared.

_I'm sorry._

_I love you, Chris. So much._

_But this is goodbye._

This was all what the moist, dim, sapphire eyes told him.

Then no more light, no more voice, no more movements. Just a cold lifeless bloody corpse being held by an even more lifeless man, desperately cradling on the hope and life that just escaped through his fingers.

The last living connection Chris had with his fiancé.

Gone.

Vanished.

**Dead.**

Two years felt more like fourteen as the mighty Samson fell, holding his dead Delilah. He let the tears fall freely, the strength leave him.

After two long years, he finally let her go.

Chris wanted so much to bury her body but there was no time to do so. He wanted to say the suppressed words inside but what was the use if they could never bring her back? He wanted to lay her down on a field of flowers but there wasn't enough grass or flowers in this hot region of Africa to at least hide the wounds the claimed her life.

He wanted her to be there, alive, kicking, being married and renamed as Jill Redfield but regardless of how many years he wait, tears he shed, begs and bargains he made, it would never happen.

All because Chris Redfield came too late. Too late to save the day. Too late to save the world.

And too late to be prince charming and save his princess.

The world will never know the saving deeds of Jill Valentine's vessel, only her passing as a soldier, a partner and fiancé of Chris Redfield from this world and from his.

_Farewell, my love. For real this time._

_"To you do we cry poor banished children of Eve. To you do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears."_

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_AN: Don't forget to review! :)))) Also, I'm not as gloomy as this story is. I just vent out my emotions in my stories. Best to put them in good use.  
_


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